Breath of Life
by EmptySequence
Summary: liquids became solids, time sped up and slowed down, what once wasn't there suddenly was. or maybe I was just going crazy. / sylvia & evie; drabble-ish.


_but I only need one more touch,_

_another taste of heavenly rush_

_and I believe; I believe it so…_

_and I only need one more touch,_

_one more taste of devouring rush_

* * *

It came easily, like breathing. In and out, in and out; I didn't even have to think. Still, I can't quite recall when those heavy lines of friendship dissipated, lacing up into the air; thin as smoke. And then everything was brighter; a light had been shined on what once was vague. Liquids became solids, time sped up and then slowed down, what once wasn't there suddenly was. Or maybe I was just going crazy?

Possibly. But perhaps I was the only sane one left.

* * *

Evie. Her name rolled off my tongue so easily that it shocked me at times. The little things about her made my stomach turn excitedly and my heart squeeze. I remember that summer she bleached her hair, and the tresses fell down past her shoulders in soft waves. She had these full lips, almost like negro girls; ones that she'd lick while she painted, turned the pale pink into a flushed rose. Once she'd gone out for dinner with Steve, and had come back to my place with those lips stained with the remnants of her wine. I'd blown the smoke from my cigarette into the air, pretending like I couldn't nearly taste that wine on my tongue.

* * *

It happened at one of Angela's parties. She had shoved a needle filled with liquid heaven into her arm and blurred her senses with tequila. Maybe I was tipsy too, but the feel of those lips pressed onto my own never faded from my mind.

Even when I woke up in the morning with a killer hangover and some conked out drunk draped on top of me, the grin that crossed my lips wasn't a feral one. Because they still tingled from the sloppy peck she'd given me; my body still hummed with the ecstasy of _her_.

* * *

"He kissed another girl." The comment didn't surprise me. I'd merely glanced at Evie, who's eyes were still fused onto the painting before her, and sighed.

"I may be a dyke, but I know a real fucker when I see one," I had replied. Steve Randal. The epitome of tall, dark, and _dick_. Evie glanced at me with a cocked brow, letting a smirk crawl across her lips.

"You should do that with you're hair more often," Evie had commented suddenly. I remember feeling the braid lacing my brunette curls together, right before that bleach-blonde vixen crossed the room and planted a big one on me right then and there.

Maybe toppling onto the bed and sucking face like two giddy school children wasn't the best idea. But it felt so fucking good I can't say I regret it one bit.

* * *

She stumbled into my house on one of the snowiest nights on record with tear-streaked cheeks and a bloody lip, sinking to the floor and letting her cries echo through the house. I'd stood there with my mouth hanging open for the longest time, before quickly sliding down next to her and resting my chin on her shoulder.

"He hit me, Syl. He promised he wasn't one of those guys, but that _bastard _hit me!" She'd wailed into the carpet, slamming her fists down with a force that shocked even me.

And I'd quickly dabbed away the blood with my sleeve, cradling her in my arms like she was a child. Evie Richardson, supposedly strong and feisty, crying on my floor and looking like a broken rag doll.

It's a wonder that I still found it in me to love her.

* * *

"I found it at Ally's Corner," she explained. I held up the charm bracelet, a wide grin spreading across my lips. My room couldn't be called festive, but spending Christmas in it was a tradition for us. I turned to press a quick kiss to her cheek, but she'd moved at the last second so that my lips landed on hers.

I'd frozen for a quick moment, before melting completely and cupping her chin, skin like velvet underneath my fingertips. Her own hands had slid under my shit and up my back, lips leaving mine in favor of my neck.

"You taste like gingerbread," Evie snickered, practically in my lap by that time. I rolled my eyes at her, trying to get back some of my fire from before the fall.

Somehow, those baby blues of hers put out the first flicker of a flame.

* * *

When the weather grows hot again, she has to leave for camp. Waving her away at the train platform, I'd never have thought it would be the last time I'd see her. I never imagined she'd like it enough in Virginia to stay. Losing my best friend, the person who'd made me realize who I was, was hard. She still writes sometimes; apparently she married a guy named Rick.

Rick can kiss my ass, for all I care. She came and went like the holidays, but the scent of her still lingers on my sheets; in my head. No amount of Rick can take that away from me. Loving her was as easy as breathing, anyway. Or maybe that year I'd just gone crazy.

Possibly. Or perhaps I was just regaining my sanity.

* * *

**Not quite sure what made me write this, but I just had an idea and it stuck. I know it was fast but you know life is too. So be dolls and review for me. c:**


End file.
